


When They Sleep

by kishathelamp



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Dark, Depression, Fanfiction, Markiplier - Freeform, Mental Illness, Writing, YouTube, Zombie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 23:12:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10523925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kishathelamp/pseuds/kishathelamp
Summary: Mark Fischbach and Marlowe Midnight find themseleves in Brooksefield Mental Institution and something seems very...off. Marlowe's dreams seem like vivid memories and Mark  cannot shake the feeling that something is very wrong with this place.Come and enter the realm of madness





	1. Chapter 1

Patient: Mark Edward Fischbach  
Age: 27     
Height: 5'10      
Weight: 180lbs  
Diagnosis: Patient has exhibited signs of extreme PTSD. The patient has had several violent outburst harming both property and the emotional state of others.   
Treatment: Extensive therapy. Patient will be started on Paxil immediately.

Patient: Marlowe May Midnight  
Age: 23  
Height: 5'5  
Weight: 130lbs  
Diagnosis: Patient suffers from sever paranoia and clinical depression. Patient has had hallucinations and claims that our realty is a lie. Derealization disorder is at hand.  
Treatment: Extensive therapy. Patient will be started on Welbutron and Fluoxetine. 

Patient: Frank Anthony Searin  
Age: 32  
Height: 6'0  
Weight: 230lbs   
Diagnosis: Patient suffers from extreme paranoid schizophrenia. Frequent hallucinations have been experienced. Patient claims that, "they're coming for us." but refuses to say who "they" are. Patient has many shaking fits.  
Treatment: Patient will be immediately started on Fluphenazine and Benzotropine.

Patient: Yuki Gasai  
Age: 15  
Height: 5'2  
Weight: 96lbs  
Diagnosis: Patient suffers from psychosis. Several fits of instability have occurred.  
Treatment: Patient will immediately be put on Haldol.


	2. Welcome to Brooksfield

Brooksfield Mental Health was a safe place for people with severe mental illness. Everything was warm and inviting, from the muted tones of furniture to the blank stares of the staff. Even the glazed, dead look in the all of the patient's eyes said, "Welcome." Marlowe Midnight hated it here. Her least favorite thing was the individual therapy sessions, which was where she sat. The room had faded blue walls and dark, wooden furniture. She was seated in the cushioned chair in front of the wide desk and, behind it, sat Mrs. Altwell. 

She was a round woman with pale skin and blonde hair pulled into a tight bun. She was wearing the staff-issued white doctor coat paired with a black pencil skirt. Black rimmed glasses sat on top of her long nose. I was focused on her round fingers as she scribbled down notes about our session. "Now," She stated, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, "Are you still having your nightmares?" Finally, the only thing that gave Marlowe entertainment in this hell-hole was messing with the staff. Marlowe stopped twirling her curly hair around her finger and became very still, and very silent. She stared hard into Altwell's eyes, hoping to make her uncomfortable. Unfortunately, she had grown used to Marlowe's dead eyed stare. She moved on to her next plan. "I honestly don't know what you're expecting from me." She leaned closer, elbows resting on the desk, "Last night I dreamed that this place burned down to the ground. The undead came for us all. No survivors. But hey, as long as this place is reduced to ashes and I get the sweet release of death, all of that is okay with me." She could tell her grin unnerved Altwell, but the psychiatrist just kept her eyes on her notes. She had learned not to give into Marlowe's whims by saying things like, "Why do you feel that way?" After a few moments of scribbling, the doctor muttered, "I see. We'll up your medication in hopes of helping you feel better." She looked up and gave her patient a fake smile. Marlowe quickly got up and walked out of the office, ending the session. She lived for the day when she could finally escape this place.

Marlowe sat down in a green, plastic covered chair. She was observing the rest of the patients in the day area. Nurses would herd people in dark sweats from one place to another. Most of the patients would keep to themselves, talking to no one in particular while facing the wall, or blankly staring down at an unfinished puzzle. This place was miserable. The environment became slightly less depressing when the daily drama of Frank Searin and Yuki Gasai fighting over one of the TVs happened. "It needs to be on this channel!" And so it began. Marlowe gazed over to the area of commotion. "There's nothing but static!" Yuki exclaimed. Frank's expression grew very serious, "You don't understand. If we change the channel, we let them in. The static keeps them away." This only further frustrated her, "Static can't protect us! The things that are coming for us aren't coming in through the TV. They'll come in the night through the front doors and kill us all. No one can stop them." Marlowe turned her attention away. Frank and Yuki usually had interesting bants, but the topic of the "things" always made her uncomfortable. Everyone in this hospital had different illness, but they still had one thing in common: they were all afraid. Not of just anything, but of an outside force. The patients had a feeling that there was something coming for them, something bad. Marlowe would lay awake at night paralyzed with panic. She knew this place was off. A few months ago, Marlowe decided to pretend to take the pills given by the nurses, but then spit them out once they left her room. Every night since, she had dreams and nightmares that she was convinced were memories. The story line was always consistent and they felt so vivid, so real. She couldn't shake the feeling that this place was hiding something from them. Deep in thought, she almost didn't notice the new face the nurses were guiding in.

Looking up, she saw him. He had black hair with red on top that fell into his face. Behind his glasses were gentle, dark brown eyes. The hospital issued clothes clung to his muscles. But, what she noticed the most, was the air of familiarity that surrounded him. He spoke, a deep and smooth voice rolled out of his mouth. She knew him. It was the man she had seen in her dreams before, she was certain. Impulse led her to jump out of the chair and run towards him. Before she reached the recognized man, a nurse stepped in her way. "What's wrong miss?" He said with concern in his eyes. Thrown off guard, Marlowe suddenly stopped. Her gaze searched wildly for where that man went. "Miss?" The nurse asked again, impatience lightly lacing his tone. "I-I know that guy." She stammered, taking off again. When she finally reached her target, she came to a startled stop. Breathless from both being out of shape and the weird deja vu she was experiencing, all she could do was stare. The man looked at her with wariness in his eyes, then confusion. She could see that he knew her too. "Who-" She began to ask, but then was grabbed by gloved hands. "Ma'am I think you need to return to your room. You're causing a ruckus." A female nurse said hurriedly. "I know her." The man said in such befuddlement. "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding." She pulled Marlowe away and he stared after her. The nurse left her alone after forcing her into her into the room. After the door closed behind her, she flopped down onto the white bed. "I know him, and he knows me. But how?" She questioned, staring up at the tiled ceiling. She rolled over on her side, looking at the clock on the wall. It was almost time for bed. She closed her eyes in hopes of finding answers. 

My room melted away into a run down convenience store, the fluorescent lights flickered lazily. The smell of death tainted the air. The man with red and black hair was standing before me amongst the unkempt shelves. He was looking down with a strange expression on his face. It was a mixture of horror, shock, and a very deep sadness. He suddenly burst into a run, exiting out of the worn metal door on the other side of the building. I raised my hand to stop him, but it just hung in the air. My mouth seemed to be sewn shut. Words were bubbling up my throat, but would never spill over. When I put my arm back down onto my knee, I felt a warm, sticky fluid. Bile replaced my bubbling words as a coppery smell made its way to my nostrils. I didn't dare look down even though my mind was screaming at me to. I began to shake as I felt soft skin in my arms. Tears flooded my eyes, I knew I should look down. The smell became more prominent and the fluid continued to spread across my lap. The entirety of my body was violently shaking now. I couldn't ignore the horror in my lap forever--that's the thing about the nightmares of this world, even if we ignore them they're still there--I looked down. 

Never have I experienced a feeling like this. I felt ill, so very ill. Horror spread through my entire being. Devastation sunk down into my soul. I could feel everything, and nothing at the same time. What I saw seemed so distant, so far away from anything that could possibly happen in real life. It was in that terrible moment when I stared down into her blank eyes that realization came crashing down on me. A stormy sea surrounded us, and the waves fell so violently that water filled my lungs and pushed me to the ocean floor. What had been in my lap all this time was a person--no--a corpse. "Oh God, oh please no." The words tumbled out so fast, followed by the feeling of vomit. Instead of throwing up, I screamed. I screamed and screamed, clutching the corpse to my shaking body. Sobs rattles throughout my chest. This wasn't a random human, this was the body of--

"GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!" Marlowe screamed as unfamiliar hands shook her awake. "Ma'am please calm down, you were having a nightmare." A nurse said gently. Tears spilled over her eyelids as she remembered what was too vivid, and too real, to be just a dream. Body still shaking with sobs, Marlowe lay back down. "Thank you for waking me." She sincerely said to the woman, she was so relieved to be out of the memory. The nurse smiled, checked her vitals, then left the room. "I'm sorry." She whispered over and over again as tears fell silently to her pillow.


	3. Memories

Marlowe watched the other patients as they partook in various activities. Some stared blankly at the TV static, others would color in coloring books or do puzzles. She didn't understand, how did life go on so normally--well as normal as it can get in a psychiatric hospital--for them? Did other patients not experience the nightmares? Everyone took their pills and did as they were told like mindless sheep. Something was clearly off, so why didn't anyone else notice it? "Mind if I join you?" A deep voice interrupted her train of thought. Marlowe looked up to see the red haired man. She motioned for him to sit down. "I'm Mark." He smiled warmly. "Marlowe. What brings you to this wondrous institution full of life?" Mark shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "I, uh, don't really want to talk about it." 

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine. Hey, do I know you from somewhere?" His words jolted Marlowe to last night's memory. Images of dead eyes and blood, so much blood, flashed across her vision. Her caramel skin grew very pale and beads of sweat formed at her hairline. "Are you okay?" Mark asked, placing his hand on her arm. Electricity shot through her body like lightening as memories flooded her mind, she was going to pass out.   

Marlowe was standing in a messy kitchen, checking for the undead. Mark had just cleared the top floor of the two story house when he met up with her. He was holding a picture. "What are you doing?" She asked, taking the photo. There were two men, one was holding a baby while the other one had his armed draped around the both of them. "Do you think we could ever have something like this?" Marlowe whispered and Mark pulled her into a hug. "This world is a living hell, but everything comes to an end. One day we'll have a family. I promise you that." He smiled with loving eyes and they kissed. 

Frank worked on the fire while Yuki prepared rations for that night's dinner. Mark and Marlowe were patrolling the area for food and undead creatures. It had been three weeks since the outbreak, and the group was doing everything in their power to survive. The warm air grew cold as Marlowe spotted a figure in the distance. The heavily wooded area made it hard to distinguish whether or not the person was alive, so they proceeded cautiously. Twigs crunched in the distance and leaves rustled. Marlowe readied her axe as a bad feeling washed over her. The stench of rotting flesh and blood filled the air as a group of seven undead approached them. Mark ran forward, slicing through the zombies with his katana. Her axe collided with the head of an undead, making a loud crunch. Spurts of blood covered the two as they fought. When it was finished they stood back to back, waiting for the next attack. Their breath came out heavy and quick and their bodies were tight with tension. Although terrifying, there was something exhilarating about the new world.

Several bodies lay strewn in the city streets. The walking dead munched on the corpses with groaning delight. Marlowe felt sick. The group decided to search the city for any signs of life. That day would forever be seared into her mind. 

A boy, only sixteen years old, was found hiding away in an apartment. His entire family had been turned, leaving him to face the world alone. The group decided to let him join their survival team. Before they left, Mark asked, "What's in this room?" He was pointing to the only closed door in the small space. The boy, Alex, turned a ghostly pale. Faint moaning could be heard on the other side. "My sister. She turned inside her room unlike my parents, who turned on the outside. I-I can't....I mean, I know she's dead but," He took shuttering breaths as he struggled to find the words. All he could muster was a whisper, "She's my little sister." Silence fell upon them all as what they had to do sunk in. "It's okay son." Frank reassured, placing a hand on the shaking boy's shoulder. Frank slowly approached the door, gun raised. "Alex, don't look." Marlowe said softly, embracing him. Mark placed his hand on the child's back as the gunshot rang out. Marlowe held him as he broke down. 

His 9 year old sister died again that day. Her pink walls and plush toys were now covered in spatters of blood. The fuzzy carpet was stained crimson as Frank carried the girl to her bed. Yuki cleaned the mess off of her face and bandaged the wound. By the time she was done, it looked as though the girl was just sleeping. Marlowe looked away from the small body, but the dead stare of the stuffed toys were not a better sight. When she looked back, Alex had placed a small brown bear in his sister's arms. "This is her favorite toy," He choked on his tears, "Was."

"Marlowe? Marlowe!" Mark's booming voice brought her back. "Are you okay?" He asked, concern dripping from his words. She looked him in the eye and said in a harsh whisper, "Don't take the medicine." Of course, he was taken aback by her words. "What?" She leaned in closer, "Whatever you do, do not take the medicine they give us." He was about to reply when one of the psychiatrists of the facility cut him off, "Not taking your medicine is dangerous." Marlowe stood up abruptly, fiercely staring the doctor down. Mark leaned back, unsure of what he should do. "Why? Because if we don't you can't control us?" The man gave her a warning look, "That's enough. We're only trying to help you." She slammed her fist on the table, "Bullshit!" He waved over some nurses. She took a few steps back. "This isn't right. Why are you holding us here?" Marlowe's voice was strained with frustration. She gave Mark a pleading look as two nurses took a hold of her. "Don't take the pills, this place is a fucking lie." She spat. Her elbow connected with one of the nurse's bellies, giving her a chance to run. Mark watched in horror as several nurses caught and pulled her to the ground, sedating her. "Don't worry about what you've heard here, crazy people have crazy theories." The doctor smiled, returning to his business. Mark didn't see Marlowe around anymore after that.   


End file.
